


We can never go home, we no longer have one

by Butterflyfish



Series: Getting to know Daryl Dixon. [10]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Coming full circle, F/M, Feels, Fighting, Fluff, Heartache, Love, Pilgramage, Sorrow, Swearing, The End?, Very not canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterflyfish/pseuds/Butterflyfish
Summary: Abra needs to come to terms with what has happened in the last 8 years. All the losses, all the changes, it needs to come to a head. Leaving feels like the only way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how much more I can put these two through. I love the characters I've created, but this is starting to feel like the end. I hope there's more, I want them to live happily ever after, but we'll see. We'll see.

I sat astride Daryl's bike, not really knowing where I was going or what I was doing.

I smashed the gear lever into first and sat with the clutch pulled in, waiting for the gate to open so I could just go. I could hear yelling vaguely over the engine, and Sasha appeared, screaming at me and asking what the hell I was doing. I told her to open the gate. She shook her head, so I swung the rifle on to my chest one handed and asked he her again.

This time she complied.

And I rode, I went by the house Carl and I had used as a lookout and swooped to collect Negan's bat, which I had cast asunder when I ran for Charlie.

I rode with one hand. I rode until night fell. I stopped for a while then, not realising where I was headed, wondering whether to wait for sun up or just ride it out until the tank was empty.

I weighed up my options. A rifle, a machete and a baseball bat... A handful of shells, and a half tank of gas still. If it were the beginning of the end it would have been a damn good start, but we were past that now.

Everything had gone from bad to worse and it had all started when...

I stamped the bike into first again. I knew exactly where I was headed.

* * *

 

"I need to get Abra" I said as calmly as I could. I'd left the infirmary when Rick had asked where she was, n I noticed the bike had gone.

"We have stuff to deal with here" Rick said pointin' at the ground n lookin' at me apologetically.

"You can deal without me. She's pregnant and vulnerable Rick" he nodded resignedly as I clenched and unclenched my fists at my side, suddenly realisin' I was pacin'

"You need to bury your son" Denise said calmly. "I know this is hard, believe me, it's no picnic for any of us, but he needs to be put to rest, and Abraham needs to. Abra can cope out there. You know it, you have to let her have her time" I looked at her a moment, then shook my head.

"Nah. Not now, not in her frame of mind" I looked around "I need a car" I rubbed my face, "I need a car" Rick sighed heavily.

"Daryl" he said, a warning, but I din't want to hear it.

"Our son _just_ fuckin'" I stopped, building up to say the actual word "died, man, I gotta go, I gotta go" I jogged away, grabbin' the vehicle closest to the gate n leavin' on my own, chasin' Abra yet again.

I tried to think where she might go. I tried not to think about Charlie at all. I still had no idea what happened. Carl was in shock havin' seen the whole thing, n Sasha was just in bits over Abraham. No one else had been nearby.

Would she head for Negan, was she that blind in her rage? Nah, that weren't Abs. She was angry n devastated, but she weren't stupid.

It was getting dark, but the headlights easily picked out her angry skid marks all over the road. I figured she was ridin' one handed, only usin' the foot break. What was clear pretty quickly was she weren't after Negan, n that sated me a little. But where would she go? Where could she go? She barely went out with us anymore, she din't know Virginia.

Then it hit me. I stood a little more weight on the gas as I realised exactly where she was headed.

If I'd'a thought about this first I'd'a packed some supplies. This was gonna be quite a road trip.

* * *

 

I wondered if Daryl might be following me. I contemplated that, sitting astride the bike in the darkness, wiping tears from my face, the cool breeze whipping my hair.

He used to follow me everywhere. Way back when, before we became whatever we are now. When he was still learning who he was, before I knew him.   
Before... The mess.

I took a deep breath, and the wind whisked it away from me as I tried to exhale. I had possibly a hundred miles left in the tank, and I'd need to find a car, I hadn't even gone far, 30 miles, maybe only 20. This was tougher than I had anticipated, and if I was in my right mind, perhaps I wouldn't have bothered.

But I needed to do this, I had to do this. For myself, for my boy. My dear sweet wiser than his years Charlie, for the baby inside me.

I took another breath, scrubbed roughly at my incessant tears, and started the bike again. I chewed my lip, ensuring this was really what I wanted.

There were _less_ than a hundred miles in the tank. My poor riding skills coupled with my need to keep pulling over so I could clear my eyes of tears hadn't helped.

I'd pulled into a Walmart Gas station, hoping for a break, but not expecting one. Losing Daryl's bike wasn't really an option. Husband or not, what's mine is yours didn't seem to count these days.

I watched the gas station kiosk for signs of life, or death, and saw nothing. What I did see was smashed in windows and an array of empty shelves. Of course, the place had been turned over, just like everywhere else. Maybe the car park at the "superstore" would be a better bet. You were more likely to find goods in a car than in an abandoned store by that time. But you were also more likely to find assholes.

I tapped at the rifle strap on my chest, and decided to check out the kiosk anyway.

You never knew, unless you tried.

* * *

 

I'd driven for over two hours, and I wondered if I'd taken a wrong turn. What was she thinking? Out here alone and so far from home. I suppose she just wasn't. There was likely no room for logical thought in her head after she watched our son die, on her own.

That hurt, and my heart had a little quiver. She shouldn't have been alone, and she'd been so angry that she was alone. Angry at me, when we should be working through this gaping chasm in our lives together.

I chewed my lip. She'd be needing gas, she'd be needing food. I tried to think where she would go, there was a Walmart, wasn't far outta the way, but it'd be dangerous, maybe teeming with walkers, maybe not. I headed for it. The carpark alone could at least get me some fuel to carry on a little farther.

I tried to remember if we had any pipe in the car, they all had flashlights, maps, and were never left standing empty. That was one thing we at least got right. One thing we'd learned in 8 years of this.

I turned off for the Walmart, seeing a sign for a gas station too but holding out no hope. I rarely had hope anymore. I didn't know what Abra was hoping for. What she thought she might find where she was heading. Knowing her it would be nothing but trouble. Whether she meant it or not, she was always trouble.

The Walmart gas station was more interesting than I thought it'd be. Abra had been here, and not too long ago.

A walker was laying in a puddle of its own blood just out side the smashed front windows, and on closer inspection it looked like it had crawled through the window itself. It had glass shards glittering in its skin under the car headlights. Maybe the noise of the bike brought it out.

There was a stain on the concrete, possibly Abra found fuel and filled the tank in a hurry, spilling some which had evaporated and left this dark ring, a splodge, on the ground. I headed inside.

The place was pretty much as you'd expect. Shelves empty, some overturned, pastries and breads dusty with mold, fridges full of green and lumpy milk. It also had that derelict smell, like old people and dust.

There was a very clear, bloody, foot print in the centre of the building, which pointed directly into the back office and stores. I followed it, not expecting anything more than I saw out on the shop floor.

Some cigarettes, which I pocketed, another dead walker, this ones head appeared caved in, which I couldn't put my finger on. It wasn't long dead, but it was, and Abra had got away, so I was happy enough. I wondered if she'd found food, or if she'd headed to the Walmart itself.

* * *

 

I sat on the road, in the dark, next to the bike, eating cold baked beans straight from the can with my fingers. I despised them greatly, but me and the baby needed sustenance of some sort, and it was all I could find, right out the back of the filling station, behind a walker whose head I all but knocked off with Lucille.

It made me weepy, thinking of Glenn and that horrid bat, but it was what I had to hand and as much as I hate to admit it, the bat did a first rate job.

I'd travelled another fifty miles or so, safe in the knowledge that I had strapped a can of fuel to the bike on bungees. They bounced a little, but they held and I went slower now.

With a destination in mind it was easier to be calm.

I looked up at the sky as it faded from black into a dull green at the edges, and I knew the sun would soon be up. I contemplated stopping, sleeping, but almost half way sleep seemed like a cop out, and I doubted if I'd manage anyway.

It was bad enough when Ben died, the terrible dreams I'd have, and when Daryl went missing after Alyson... Daryl.

I sighed audibly, a lovelorn sound. God I loved him. More than words.

That's why I left, and didn't turn back. I'd done enough damage.

I shrugged on the coat I'd found in an abandoned car in the Walmart parking lot and tossed my bean can to one side.

Almost half way, I couldn't stop now.


	2. Chapter 2

I had to syphon fuel from a couple cars at the supermarket, but I found some old hose in a landscapers van. It was unnervin' how few walkers there were here. But thinkin' about it, it made sense. People steered clear of big places where Walkers might be many, eventually the walkers get boreda waitin' n move on.   
That's not to say there would be none, lurkers were a very real thing, n they sat in wait for dinner to come to them quite patiently.

Abra had been here, I could almost smell it. She'd broken into a car and stolen what she could from inside, three fingers, covered in the greasy residue of gas, marked a door handle on a green Peugeot, and when I looked inside I found one of her hairs, three foot long, chocolate brown with a little tell tale silver at the root. I almost wanted to pocket it, but I smiled to myself and let it drop to the ground.

* * *

 

2 hours from my destination and I was sat in the shade of some small town's local hero. A statue, a man pointing east.

I clenched my jaw against the noises that threatened to escape, but nothing could subdue the wolf like howl of despair that bubbled up from somewhere so deep and dark inside me.

It all came out, all at once. Mourning, sorrow, loneliness, sleep deprivation, even hormones. Everything knitted together and flew from my lips as a long undulating cry.

I tried to remind myself why I was doing this, how much it meant to me.

Still sobbing, sniffling, I refilled the gas tank on Daryl's bike. I took a deep breath and held it in my lungs until I trusted myself to exhale without screaming. The noise had brought assholes out from the surrounding trees.

I kicked the bike to life, wheel spinning off into the afternoon.

* * *

 

The long and s shaped tyre track in the dirt made me stop the car.   
It was outside a small town library, next to a statue covered in blood n bird shit.

With intrigue gettin' the better of me I went inside, she coulda been under duress, the bike coulda been stolen n she could still be inside.

It's hard to explain, but huntin' down the one ya love in danger does crazy things to your head. I had to remind myself of the general protocol. Bang on the door or a window, wait for walkers to come forward, if they didn't, enter with caution, weapons up, muscles like coiled springs, but loose enough so ya din't lash out at any damned thing.

So I took a deep breath, banged on the window, which shook under my fist, n waited.

There was noise from inside. The unmistakable gurgle of the undead fucks that had turned everythin' upside down, but it din't seem to be gettin' closer or farther away.

Was it stuck?

I put my hand against the dusty window to more clearly see inside. The noise got more urgent, the thing had seen me, but I couldn't see it, and it still didn't get louder, closer.

I went in, pushin' at the large double doors that led in to a dark n intimidatin' buildin'. It was old n kinda fancy. The ceilin's, for the most part were high n would have given the place an airy feel, if it weren't so derelict, n smell so bad.

It came in waves, the sweet n rottin' smell we'd come so used to, but somehow, more.  
The books n bookshelves seemed mostly in tact, which surprised me.

The walker I could hear was still gruntin' hungrily, and I followed the noise. I came upon an area I could only assume was the kids section, at least once upon a time. It was painted in primary colours, n once, they woulda been bright n enticin' to kids. But the walls were overlaid with writin', thick and black, textured like thick paint.

It weren't black

Shit, weren't paint neither.

A lotta it was nonsense, various words over n over, but at the end, very clearly, someone had written

_'Great shall be the peace of the Children'_

I frowned. I knew well enough by then the things people could, would, do in times of crisis. I ventured farther forward, n a cacophony of noise n movement made me turn to the left.

A man had hung himself from the lower ceilin' here in the kids section. Beneath him, a mounda small bodies. The children he'd led to peace.

He faced the writing on the wall, as if that might excuse everythin'. I looked down at the little bodies under his feet, protected from the elements they still looked, kind of, like children.

I knew Abra was no longer here. She may have been under duress when she left, but it was pressure she put on herself.

I sighed heavily, torn between doin' what was right and proper, and chasin' after Abra.

We didn't bury Charlie. It had been hours, almost a day, had they buried him without us? I chewed my lip, clenched and unclenched my fist at my side, the other hand fiddlin' with my lighter.

I turned suddenly, no clue what I intended to do, and grabbed books, throwin' 'em under the walker who'd opted out after doings e unthinkable, the weak asshole who couldn't face his guilt.

The books began piling up, I threw a book shelf, yelling with effort n rage. Before long there was a decent pile of books, paper, card and wood. I grabbed a final book and ripped out the pages, holdin' the flame from my lighter at the corner and watchin' it blacken and catch before launchin' it at the fire pile, climbin' so high the walker looked like he was at the stake more than hangin' from the ceilin'.

I watched the flames a while, my face hot n wet n sneerin'.

I backed out, making sure the asshole got caught too, before turnin' on my heel and chasin' after Abra's shadow again.

I couldn't believe she'd seen that. It was what I was tryin'a protect her from.

Maybe she understood that more now she'd seen it herself. Maybe. Maybe not.

Goddammit probly not.

I scrubbed at my eyes, frustrated, with the heels of my hands. Not far, not long now, n we c'n turn home, n mourn this shit together.

* * *

 

Night was coming on at quite a pace when I reached the edge of the woods that signalled the end of my journey.

I was shattered, aching, my insides still vibrating from being on the bike for so long. 12 hours of traveling.

I took a deep breath and stretched myself out, careful not to over do it, knowing that pregnancy could make women more supple.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, wondering whether I should bother to stash the bike. It was almost empty of fuel, and I didn't want to ride it through the trees, dragging any walkers after me.

So I moved it as best I could, covered it with fallen leaves and broken branches. It'd have to do, it was darkening so fast all around me and I didn't have time to fuss.

It had been 8 years, I wondered if I'd remember my way. I wondered if it even mattered. I'd come so far, I didn't want to give up, but how much this had meant to me when I started had faded to almost nothing. Now I was here I wasn't sure it was worth it, and I worried I would regret every mile which had rolled under my wheels. But I couldn't turn back now.

I stepped into the cover of the tree canopies, Lucille heavy on my shoulder, the rifle gently knocking against my back with each careful and purposeful step.

20 minutes later I was sitting by the lake I liked to skinny dip in. Resting up the horse I liked to call Aphrodite, the one the little ones called Rainbow.

My arms were wrapped around my knees and my chin rested on top of them. A position I only had weeks to enjoy as my belly grew seemingly over night.

Walkers ambled around on the opposite bank, but I ignored them. I wasn't here for them. I struggled to work out why I was here at all.

I got up, the walkers turned in my direction and stumbled directly towards me, not stopping as they hit the water, not seeming to notice anything but me. I flipped them the bird, threw my rifle back over my shoulders, and headed on my way, past the tree I caught Daryl peeping from, past the place we saw the white hart.

I looked at the ground, remembering being chased by hundreds of undead assholes, finding a hut in the woods and...

There.

My breath stuck in my throat as I saw the hunting knife my twin brother ben had given me on our 23rd birthday.

It was half buried, dusty and worn by the elements. I bent and unburied it, brushing the dirt off carefully with cold numb fingers.

It wasn't so pretty anymore. The extravagant engravings on the handle were full of dust and crap, 8 years of rain and snow and baking hot Georgia sunshine had dulled the once shiny blade.

It was like looking into a past that might not have happened, like some semblance of a dream I couldn't quite grasp.

This wasn't what I came for, but I pocketed it anyway, a little bonus.   
I carried on, looking for what I really came for.


	3. Chapter 3

I didn't take the woods. I knew she had, the bike was stashed off'a the road, half covered in foliage. I sighed and shook my head, she'd tried, but goin' through the woods was a dumb idea, especially in the dark.

I got out the car and held my hand near the bike's engine. It was cold, she'd been here some time, n I'd have to hurry if I was gonna catch up. If she moved on from here I'd no idea where she might go. I hadn't slept since before, before... I hadn't slept, and trackin' could be difficult if I was outta sorts.

I hopped back into the car, takin' the main road route would be longer, but she'd still be here. I hadta take that chance.

I rolled quietly up the driveway towards the main gate. It was still hangin' haphazardly as we'd left it, smashed inward by the tank the governor had obtained after Woodbury fell. How we left it as we ran blindly away, until we couldn't run no more.

I stopped the car after the headlights had swooped around the inside, the main courtyard was empty, eerie and dark. I killed the engine, there was no noise, no gruntin', no moanin'. Nothin'.

I din't trust it, but I got outta the car anyway, knowin' Abra would be nearby. Rather than headin' inside, I circled back on myself, if Abra was anywhere she'd be watchin' from afar. Providin' she hadn't left, I knew where she'd be.

* * *

 

I sat and watched a car crawl silently up to the broken gates. Safe in the knowledge I was well hidden I watched with little interest.

The walkers had gone, moved on, taken leave. The fires were long burned out, and the vegetable plots had overgrown, wild with fallen fruit and weeds. My ass was getting damp and numb where I sat in the grass, across the stream, contemplating getting closer.

I looked away, for just a second, and turned back to see the car door was open, but no one was near it.

Some poor guy trying to find a home, or some lost woman hoping for a break.

Not here. It's gone.

I sighed deeply and went to stand, thinking I should find somewhere to bed down.

The trees behind me rustled and I grabbed the baseball bat by my side and turned around sharply.

"Hey" that rough quiet voice. I lowered Lucille.

"You followed me" I said, accusatory.

"You need to come home" Daryl said, walking forward but not getting too close, his eyes were narrow as ever, his face grim, concerned.

"I thought I had" I shrugged gently, tears threatening "I thought I had" I said again, dropping the bat and folding over a little as the enormity of everything hit me.

That was what I was doing. Coming home. Back to where things were good. For a long time things were so good.

I turned to the prison again, both hands at my mouth as if they might hold in the sobs that wanted to escape.

Of course they didn't. They couldn't.

I felt Daryl approach, his arm awkward on the small of my back.

"It's gone" I managed, calming a little with his touch. Daryl grunted the positive

"But you knew that already" I nodded, still not daring to look at him.

"Yeah. Maybe" I looked at the towers where our look outs were held, where they used to be,  where Daryl and I had almost ended our relationship before it had started, fighting like cat and dog.

"Can't go back, Abs" he said quietly. "Can't reverse time, this part is finished, you learn n move on" I shook my head.

"How?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "what have we learned? How do we move forward from this?"

* * *

 

I knew she meant Charlie and I couldn't answer that. I din't know.

"I know what you're tryin'a do" I said, she was tryin' to run from it. Go back to when things were better. "Can't run from the voices in ya head, Abra" she nodded, still lookin' at what was once our home. Now empty n open n useless.

"I know" she sighed.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Finally she turned to me, a mass of tears and pink blotchy cheeks.

"Not really, but you have a right to know" she said, as if I didn't have the right at all, because I wasn't there.

"He must've followed us" she finished. "He died in my arms, just me, and him, in the infirmary." She swiped at her face n tried a smile "I'm thankful for that much, there was no noise and no panic. Just me and Charlie" she turned back to the prison again. "I hated you for that" she said quietly, n I firmed my hand up on her back again. "Then I hated everyone, Negan, Rick, but Sasha was right. Trouble seems to follow me. I thought coming here..." She paused and took a deep breath "maybe I could start again, find new people or even none at all and live out my life like before" I rubbed the small of her back n she looked at me sadly.

"There's no home for us anywhere Daryl." I frowned at her

"Alexandria's ya home" but she shook her head and moved away from my touch

"Alexandria is gone. The prison is gone. Everything in between has gone. Nowhere is safe. No one is safe." She stepped towards me, n I just wanted to throw my arms around her and tell her everythin'd be OK, but I couldn't lie to her, not her.

"We'll get over this, Abra. But we c'n only work through it together" she nodded gently.

"I don't know why I came here" she said movin' forward into my arms. I held her tight, feelin' her back shake, racked with sobs again.

"I do. I get it." I put my hand in her hair n bent my head to kiss her neck, breathing her in.

"You're not mad?" She asked, sobs subsidin'. I shook my head n pulled away so I could see her.

"Nah. But you gotta come back" she rolled her eyes.

"Can we stay a little longer?" I chewed my lip, but nodded eventually.

"Aight," I nodded at the car "we'll get in the car n find somewhere to sleep" she looked at the prison again and took a deep breath.

"No, Daryl, I want to stay here"

* * *

 

"In my cell" I said when he didn't answer, but just looked at me like I was insane. "You said you get it"

"I get it, but it doesn't mean I agree. I ain't goin' in there. It's a tomb, Abra" he was pointing and shouting, and I couldn't understand why he was so mad.

"Well, maybe Alexandria feels like a tomb to me. Maybe I just want to be somewhere Charlie's never been." I shrugged my shoulders "you don't get it."

"Oh I get that. You think I don't wish he wasn't dead?" I opened my mouth to interrupt but he continued. "Ya think ya the only one sufferin'? This is so like you." He began pacing, and I knew he was enraged. His eyes glistened and threatened, his lip was curled.

"So like me?" He nodded

"Poor hard done by Abra. The only woman in the new world who ever fuckin' suffered" he stopped and pointed his finger at me. "Ya selfish, n ya heartless, n Y'aint stepping foot inside that prison" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Heartless? My son just died"

"Our son!" He roared at me "our son just died, Abra. Charlie was both of ours, I lost him too" he was right, of course he was right, I was only thinking about myself and what I wanted. I swallowed hard. How very dare I.

"You weren't there" I said to him "you were never there when shit went down."

"This ain't on me" he retorted sharply. That's not what I meant, but obviously it was something he was feeling guilty about.

"I just want to see my cell." I tried, but he wasn't having it. If he had his way, we'd be back in Virginia by morning.

"I ain't sleepin' in no cage, n I damn well ain't sleepin' in no tomb, neither" he eyed me carefully, trying to read me. He knew I was going anyway, the arguing was pointless.

"You don't have to" I said, a whiny quality to my voice which I hated. "But I need to do this. I need this, Daryl."

"You need to come home" he said, pointing at the ground. "The prison, is gone, the life we had here, the people we had here, gone" he pointed vaguely north "they need us" I shook my head at him

"They need you." I turned back to the prison and spoke to him over my shoulder "I'm nothing but trouble, and they don't need me. I'm going in there" I began walking, heading for the small wooden bridge that crossed the stream, and for the longest time I honestly didn't think he would follow.


	4. Chapter 4

I was almost at the bent and broken fences when I realised Daryl was following me.

I ran my old hunting knife along the chain link, it rattled, the ringing metal on metal sound brought back so many memories to me. Beth and Carl, so young, flirting ridiculously, not realising what they were doing they were that young. Rick, farming. The squealing piglets and the tap-swoosh-tap-swoosh of Hershel making his way over to say good morning.

No walkers had heard me, nothing at all came to investigate the loud chinking at the fence, so I ducked though a hole, a jagged rip in the linkages. When i turned, wondering if I should sew it up, like we used to here, with a boot lace or something, Daryl was ducking through it behind me. I gave him a look I hope conveyed that he wasn't going to stop me, and turned to continue to the building.

It was different, but so familiar. The barbecue hut was dilapidated, the benches and tables out here torn apart by bullets and bombs. Everything was covered in a layer of grime, which made me sad. We all loved this place, we looked after this place for so long. I ran my hand along a table as I passed it, my fingers coming back black and red and sticky. I wiped them on my jeans.

The water butts were destroyed. Nothing but faded plastic shards littered the courtyard, bleached by a relentless southern sun. I looked up, and the bridge above the courtyard was gone, rubble and dust lay all around instead. Iron bars that ran through the old concrete twisted and spiked at odd angles.

It wasn't the same. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this.

"Rose coloured glasses" Daryl said gruffly behind me "ain't nothin' what ya make it up to be in ya head" I turned to him, sneered, and turned back to the task at hand.

The cells would be just ahead, through a door on our left. The big white letters in the wall stating the was block c were grey with age.

A shiver ran up my spine, and an involuntary 'brrrr' ran from my lips.

"Ok?" Daryl asked me, concerned. My instincts were screaming at me to run and protect my baby, but I needed to see inside.

"Mmm" I answered without commitment. I wasn't ready to talk to him, not yet.

"I'll go in" he said, passing me and approaching the main door to the block. I huffed at him, but let him do what he needed. So long as wasn't screaming at me, he could do what he wanted.

* * *

 

I din't want to be here. I hated it, every damn corner held ghosts I had survived just fine without.

T-dog, Lori, Hershel, Andrea. Carol leavin' n Abra almost dyin'.

The best thing about this place was that it was behind us now. Or so I thought.

I offered to head inside first, not trustin' that the emoty courtyard was equal to there bein' no walkers. I expected a fight but she nodded at me, lettin' me take the door handle n takin' up her place the other side of the door jamb.

This weren't what she expected, either. It was written all over her face. Sure it was good here, once, about a hundred years ago. Had she forgotten why we left? Forced out by the Governor and his army of misfits?

I tossed my Flashlight at her and have her a nod as I banged on the door. The sound was loud, and echoed a moment around us, givin' me the creeps. It really did sound like a tomb, n I weren't convinced she was gonna have a night in her old bed.

When nothin' came straight back to us she raised a brow at me, n I swear I almost let my guard down. There were gapin' holes in the walls, weren't no way the place was empty.

I put my finger to my lips n she rolled her eyes, as much as I hate that, it was good to see her bein' herself.

Her attitude soon changed though, as an almighty crash erupted at the door, makin' is both jump, n sendin' her steppin' back.

She eyes me carefully as I smirked at her,

"I'm still going in there" she spat. Fine. This is somethin' she had to do, let's just get it over with.

"Sounds like one" I said to her, "ya ready?" We'd not been out together for a while, not like this, on foot, but old habits died hard, I guess.

She nodded at me, already bouncin' on her toes, holdin the flashlight up above us, pointin' down, losin' that damned bat in favour of her old huntin' knife.

I opened the door and the creature came out, followed by a second and a third. Abra got the first without thinkin' about it, the second sort of fell over the first, n I stabbed the third one while Abra climbed on the second n knifed it through the back of the head. The third walker fell heavily on her and she pushed it off with a disgusted yell.

"You did that on purpose, you asshole" I put my hand out to her, but she slapped it away.

"What are we five? Don't be stupid. C'mon" I put my hand back n she took it reluctantly. "Grow up" I muttered under my breath, n she made a noise like she huffed air through her nose.

It got my back up and I turned to her.

"This is serious Abra, we're putting our lives in danger for ya pilgrimage, some fuckin' personal journey that I'm not in on."

"I never asked you to come" she said, lookin' at the walkers on the ground behind us now.

"Ya never gave me much choice" she looked at me chewin on the inside of her cheek.

"I told you, I need to be somewhere where I can look around and not have images of Charlie in my head. I don't expect you to understand that, but I do expect you to understand that I nee to do it. " I shrugged at her

"I do understand. But ya acting like no one else lost nothin'. I lose my kid n ya just go, so I gotta lose you n the baby too?" Her face said she hadn't thought of that. She looked at me coyly n gestured with her chin at the open door that lead to the dark unknown.

"C'mon" she said, then, waitin' for me to lead the way.

Weren't exactly an apology, but I took it anyway.

* * *

 

The hallway was always dark, windowless as it was, but it seemed even darker still, with no chatter, no late night mumbling a from residents, no laughing and chatting or general noise outside.

As the door swung closed behind me, led gently by my hand, we were dropped into nothing short of pitch blackness.

"Hold that light up" Daryl said in front of me, and I obliged as best I could, holding the light to shine his way, keeping half an eye behind us.

Watching him, he didn't need the light. He knew every turn of that long walkway better than I knew the back of my hand. If it wasn't for the threat of the undead, he'd have been fine in the blackness.

He held a hand up, stopping me in my tracks. I held my breath, listening, and he waved me forward again. Maybe he'd heard something, maybe he was jumpy, either way, I was suddenly very glad I wasn't alone.

"Up here" he grunted, taking a left turn, which led us into the room we used to use as an armoury. There were still weapons and ammo. I was amazed none of it had been blown up. We looked at each other a brief moment, before Daryl jutted his chin and spoke.

"Maybe we grab some'a this on the way out" I nodded at him. It seemed like a fine idea.

The meshed door in front of us led straight into the residential area, the cells lined up there below a mezzanine floor which held a few more, and Daryl's 'bird's nest' where he slept when he wasn't watching me sleep, or in the tower, or on a run.

It felt so familiar and just like home. Again, the block was mostly untouched, though a strike from the tank appeared to have busted half the upper floor open, the mezzanine bent and twisted at odd angles, split from itself in the middle and hanging down.

I swallowed hard as we approached what was my cell. The little curtain was pulled across and I remembered very clearly standing there listening to Daryl move, he'd touched my stuff, I was so mad at him.

Daryl moved to the far side of the door way and knocked on the wall, and we waited with baited breath.

I heard the bed springs creak like someone got up from the thin mattress, and Daryl and I locked eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

I gave Abra a look, meanin' that I knew there'd be somethin' in here. Weren't no way it was gonna be empty. She reached her hand towards me n grabbed the edge of the curtain to pull it back, she took a deep breath and yanked it so hard it almost pulled off its runner.

At first I thought there was nothin' there, I weren't expectin' the walker to be less than four foot tall.

A noise came from Abra in front of me as I drew my knife back, a heave maybe, or shock. Little Luke was reachin' up for me, teeth gnashin', not much noise escapin' his little mouth. He was draggin' his leg at an odd angle, it was busted.

I took a step back, 'cause for a moment I saw Charlie lookin' at me, n I weren't sure I could do that again.

I shook my head in the hopes of makin' my boy's face disappear, but Abra stepped forward n ran her knife into the nape of his neck, n as Luke's face froze, definitely Luke, she jumped back again, droppin' her knife with a noisy rattle to the dusty floor. When I looked at her, her hands were over her mouth n she was sinkin' slowly to her knees. 

"I thought" I started, unable to finish, n she nodded at me,

"Yeah. I know."

"It... It ain't" I managed, my voice Shakin'.

"Yeah. I know that, too" she was on her knees, reachin' for the curly haired little kid, n pullin' him towards her. He weren't Charlie, but he'd been Charlie's age when it all happened. She sat with him lyin' across her lap n rocked him cryin' as the memory of us returnin' here not long after the attack came to me. She wanted to put Luke down, n I wouldn't let her.

She was strokin' his hair, grey with dust, back from his forehead n hummin' to him, tears still comin', n I had to stop her, she was all but breakin' my heart, n I din't think it'd fix too well as it was.

"Abra..." I said to her, gently, n she looked up slowly.

"Oh" she said, as if it all suddenly dawned on her that this really wasn't Charlie. "Oh, yeah." She put him carefully back on the floor, ignorin' the fact that she had blood all over her t-shirt n all over one side'a her face. "We should bury him" she said, not lookin' up. I looked her over, not knowin' what I was checkin' for, before noddin', even though she weren't lookin' at me.

"Yeah., a'ight" I wondered again if we'd missed Charlie's burial. "In the Mornin', when it's light. Reckon the farmin' tools'll still be around" I stood n she followed me with her eyes. "Y'ok?" She smiled sadly and shook her head a little, then threw the question back at me. "Nah" I replied, cause I weren't, n I weren't in the habit'a lyin' 'bout how I felt no more, not like when we were here.

I held my hand down to her n this time she took it without kickin' off. I heaved her up n straight into my arms, holding her tight as I dare. It was odd, her big belly between us when she used to be underweight. "Ya must be shattered" I whispered, n I felt her nod against my neck.

* * *

 

We checked the rest of the cell block, and Daryl tied the armoury door shut with his boot lace for good measure.

We found nothing else of interest, no more walkers which seemed incredible, and made Luke being in my cell all the more ironic, at least to me.

"Nothing can get in?" I asked Daryl as we stood again outside my old room. He looked above us at the broken mezzanine, then gave me a small shrug

"Not 'less there're any on the roof" I took him at his word, "ya ready for this? It ain't gonna be like it was?" I'd gathered that, but I nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling the curtain back again. Despite finding nothing elsewhere, Daryl held his knife up by his ear, elbows out either side of his head.

But of course there was nothing inside. Luke still lay on the floor where we had left him.

My room, that old dusty cell, was pretty much as I had left it, I remember getting up that morning. Daryl sitting the wrong way on the chair opposite my bunk, a smile on his lips when I finally opened my eyes. A quiet

"Hey, you" coming from my lips before I was really awake. We'd spent a few hours together in the watch tower that night, very much against doctors orders.

The chair was still facing the wall instead of the bed, and for some reason I righted it. Then looked at the table, my books and hurricane lamp covered in 8 years of dust and grime.

My picture of Ben in a frame Daryl had risked our lives to get for me, because it was pretty and girly and I was into that, like it mattered, back then.

I picked it up, rubbed the glass with my jacket sleeve, and looked at Ben's smiling face.

"Ain't all that different" Daryl said behind me, and I turned to find him leaning against the wall on his shoulders, his legs loosely crossed in front of him.

"It's not quite the same" I said, a hand rubbing my swelling abdomen, and he managed a little smile at me, pushing himself off the wall and circling my waist with his hands. I turned my face away to stifle a yawn.

"Bed" he said, and I nodded, another yawn taking over my muscles. I hadn't realised how exhausted I was, but I guess you never do until you stop.

We got in my bed together, though there wasn't really enough room. He got in first and backed against the wall, and spooned me when I lay in front of him. His arm snaked around me and his palm rested on my bump.

"I just wanted to go back to before it all went wrong" I said, after a long few minutes of silence. He didn't reply, he often didn't when we spoke in quietly in the dark. He thought a lot, listened and observed. "I thought, things were good for me here. I met you" I rubbed the back of his hand on my belly and he gave me a little squeeze. "We had our ups and downs, but this was the first good thing that happened since the world fell down"

"This place" he said roughly, his voice thick in the stillness "has bad memories for me. I was a different person. We lost... A lotta people here." I nodded

"I know"

"You're the best thing that happened, n if we're together, home c'n be anywhere" I smiled, a tear tickling my cheek.

"Stop, it's weird when you're cute" I heard the bed squeak before I felt him move, and he pushed himself up on his elbow.

"Did I ever tell ya 'bout the picture?" I turned to him, completely confused.

* * *

 

"Picture?" She asked, n I instantly regretted sayin' anythin'. Likely she'd be embarrassed, maybe annoyed but..

"Out on a run with some of the guys, Glenn, Zack, Michonne, I found a magazine, FHM or some shit" she stiffened under my hand, turnin' to face me slightly, even in the dark I knew she'd be frownin'. "You were on the cover, all tiny shorts n little bra... Thing" her hands came up n covered her face.

"Oh god was it awful? I forgot about that. They came to see me at an after show thing in Atlanta."

"Nah, was pretty hot" she laughed, still coverin' her face like it mattered she was blushin' in the dark. "Anyway, I took it. You n I were off, I think. I'd last spoken to ya in the guard tower n ya might'a called me an asshole"

"You didn't get from that that I was a singer... What must you have thought of me?"

"Hey, I weren't wastin' my free time readin' the article" She turned a little more, swiping at me playfully.

"ugh, you had my picture? You freak!" I stopped her, pullin' her arms back to her sides n putting my hand on her bump again.

"Fuck yeah," I coughed purposefully "til Glenn found it n gave me a loada shit 'bout it." She sighed, no longer laughin'.

"Seems like a million years ago." She said, n turned away from again. I scooted a little closer n held her a little tighter again. It _was_ a million years ago, n so much had changed.

"They gotta pay for what they did, Abra. N I wanna be there when they do." I whispered quietly in her ear. She didn't answer, n I wondered if she'd fallen asleep.

"Yeah" she said suddenly, quiet but firm. "me too"


	6. Chapter 6

Waking up I was a little confused, shot back in time to the prison, I half expected Daryl to be sitting in my chair. Then I realised he was cuddled up close behind me, his soft breathing moving my hair rhythmically. I actually thought I'd woken up before him, until I heard him speak behind me.

"Hey" I turned under his arm and looked at him, wondering for the hundredth time how he knew I had woken up.

"Hey you" we had things to get up and do, we had to get back to Alexandria, but I pushed my lips against his, closing my eyes against the dust and grime, and pretended, just for a moment, that nothing had changed. That we were 8 years younger, 8 years less world weary. It was a dream, a nightmare that never happened. Just for a moment.

He kissed me back lazily, like we had all the time in the world, and I wondered if he was making the most of this moment too. He broke off the kiss, and I almost tried to bring him back to me, but he looked at me very seriously

"We should get movin'" I nodded, I didn't want to, I didn't know if I could go back to Alexandria, though with the town half burnt out I did suspect they'd appreciate any help. Maybe not from me, hadn't I done enough?

"Ok" I said, removing the dust laden blanket from us and sitting up, rubbing my face with grimy hands. I loosened and retied my ponytail. The last time I was here my hair wasn't long enough for that.

I sighed and heaved up off the bed, struggling with my ridiculous bump. I wondered at that, I was only about 12 weeks, but already I was in bigger clothes.

I spotted Luke on the ground, and a little furrow came to my brow.

"We'll find the tools," Daryl said, getting up now I'd made room for him "they might be a bit old, but, spade's a spade, right?" I nodded and he move forward, collecting Luke up effortlessly in his arms, and as Luke's head rolled bonelessly, Daryl rearrange himself so Luke would have been comfortable.

I did think of Charlie, a lot. And when saying goodbye to Luke I knew I'd be saying goodbye to my adopted son, but also to this place, the life we had, the life we could have had. The life we would now never know.

If we hadn't left, there would have been no Charlie.  
Silver linings... Wherever you can find them.

* * *

 

We buried him where we buried everyone else, our own little cemetery just outside the main courtyard. While I dug, Abra collected wild flowers for the finishin' touch.

I laid him in gently as I could, tryin' to hold back tears as I thought of Charlie, Merle, Alyson, all the people I wasn't there to bury. All the friends I never laid to rest.

I hefted myself out of the hole, the grave, and stood next to Abra. She reached out for my hand blindly, and for a while we stood in silence. I wondered what she was thinkin', but when her sobs came I knew. My own tears weren't far behind, I hated cryin', it was weak, but Charlie's voice was in my head, tellin' me to "get that rabbit, Daddy" n I thought how I missed his first 9 months, cuz I couldn't just suffer the pain of losin' his mom, his real mom.

Abra's head found my shoulder and she rested there, still lookin' at the open grave.

"Someone should say somethin'" I said, not thinkin' it should be me. I wouldn't know where to start. Abra squeezed my hand and then let it drop to my side. She bent and scooped up two handfuls of the dirt, piled next to the hole,

"I thought coming here would absolve me" she said sadly, "but there's no running from this." She chucked the earth over Luke's body, "just know you were loved." She said tearfully "every second of every day, you were loved" she looked at me n I nodded, collectin' up the shovel n fillin' in the grave.

She knelt beside me in the grass.

"Remember you told me that day to get on the bus?" I grunted at her, I din't wanna think about that. Hell I din't wanna think 'bout 'nothin' "I mean, if I had..."

"Can't think like that" I cut her off. "Madness lies that way. What happened happened n here we are" I'd run out of steam, I couldn't toss no more dirt. I was done. She saw my exhaustion on my face.

"It's enough" she said, laying the flowers on top.

"We should get them guns, get goin'" I said to her and she stood a moment, rubbin' her baby bump, but she din't reply. "Want anythin' from ya cell?" I asked her, n she shook her head slowly, it surprised me, she wanted to come here and remember the past, but din't even want her picture of her long dead twin.

Maybe it weren't what she expected, maybe she forgot what happened n why we left. She was still rubbin her guts when I approached her, n a small smile spread on her mouth.

"What?" I asked, n she shook her head at me

"I don't... It can't be" I frowned and she looked at me with wide eyes, confused "I think the baby just moved" I dropped the spade on the floor n rushed forward to put my hands on her, she laughed sayin' "you won't feel it, not yet,  
But... I felt it inside me"

"What's it feel like?" I asked her, n she looked dumbfounded before finally answerin'

"Like a fish, flipping its tail" I felt my eyes narrow, not sure if I believed her, But she put her hand over mine and moved them to one side. "Here" she said, but I felt nothin'

"Thought it was only an inch long" she shrugged her shoulders at me  
"The doctors measurements must have been out, if I'm feeling it move I must be about 16 weeks." I scowled at her, confused.

"Ya cant do the math?" She pursed her lips at me and shook her head.

"Daryl, I've had, maybe, 12 periods in my life. None in 8 years. Do you wanna try and calculate based on that?" I shook my head unable to help the smile that spread on my face.

"C'mon" I said "let's get them guns n get home."

* * *

 

It had all suddenly become very real for me. It wasn't what I thought. I had this little life in me, this whole future that could be really great. It would never be as simple as at the prison, but life wasn't simple. We had it so easy for so long, we forgot what people could do and what we had to do to protect ourselves.

I didn't want to be living in the past, Not when a very real and very beautiful future was promised in the single flash of movement, a feeling of bubbles or popping corn in my womb.

I couldn't run from the guilt, the gaping hole losing Charlie had left in me. No matter where I was that hole in my heart would be with me, so why not with Daryl, with Rick and Michonne and everyone else? Why not at Alexandria?

Daryl handed me as much as he would let me carry, some bullets and a couple of rifles across my back.

When we'd loaded the car he gave me a look and I nodded at him.

"I'm ok. I'm glad I did this." He gave me his single almost imperceptible nod in return and got into the driver's seat. I looked again at the prison, took a deep breath and got in the car, not looking back as Daryl spun us around and back to the road. I'd got what I came for. Closure. 

Now it was time to get back to Alexandria, regroup and rebuild, preparing for a new attack from the Saviours, from Negan. I did wondr if he knew that he'd be walking into a harder and more determined group of survivors.


End file.
